He’d leaned in to show me something on the screen and his forearm brushed against mine. I’d felt that single point of contacteverywhere.
Now, curled under a blanket with one of my aunt’s cats purring on my chest, I stared at my ceiling, wide awake.
“Stop thinking about him,” I whispered to myself.
But my body didn’t listen.
Neither did my memory.
It kept replaying the way his voice dipped low when he said my name.
The glint in his eye when he smirked.
The flare in his nostrils when Tristan pulled me against his side.
Jealousy looked good on Leo.
Too good.
I sighed and rolled over, pressing my face into the pillow to muffle the groan that wanted out.
This was bad.
He was dangerous.
And I wasalready slipping.
Chapter Seven
LEO
The ball hitthe hardwood with a crisp, satisfying echo. Over and over.
Bounce. Bounce. Spin. Shot.
Swish.
I barely watched it drop. Didn’t need to.
I wasn’t here to miss.
“Yo,” Xavier called out, towel slung around his neck, “you gonna actuallyruna drill or just make love to the three-point line?”
I caught the rebound and passed it hard enough to sting his hands. “Don’t need drills. I’m already better than you.”
He scoffed. “Cocky this early? What’d you eat for breakfast—arrogance and protein powder?”
“Your mom.”
The guys groaned and laughed. Garrett muttered something about Leo beingon one, and Tristan—still hungover from who knows what—barely looked up from the bench where he nursed a Gatorade like it owed him child support.
I grabbed my shirt off the bleachers, but didn’t put it on. The gym was humid, reeking of sweat, polish, and ambition.And I liked feeling the sting of cool air on my back after every shot. Every missed thought.
Because I couldn’t get her out of my head.
Jade.
Little scholarship girl with hurricane eyes and a mouth made of fire.
